


breathe me in, taste my words (let me blow your mind)

by iPhone



Series: breathe me in [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, First Time, Making Out, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-08 17:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/pseuds/iPhone
Summary: The beginning of Beca and Chloe's relationship. It's just kissing.Kind of AU, set between PP1 and PP2, assuming that Beca and Jesse are not a Thing.





	breathe me in, taste my words (let me blow your mind)

**Author's Note:**

> i was trying to write my fourth of july fic, but it didn't happen. 
> 
> Song is "Make You Feel" by Alina Baraz, ft. Galimatias.

_Listen long, long enough you can love me_  
_I'll be just yours, you can hold me_  
_Even let you undress my mind_  
_Save it, play it, watch it then press rewind_

* * *

Months pass after their first kiss – soft and sitting at the edge of the empty Barden pool just before summer break – and they establish that neither of them wants to rush _this_. Whatever “this” is between them. All they know is that they’ve been granted time to experience _this_ and experience being together, unfettered and unbothered even if their peers grin at them knowingly and tease them mercilessly whenever they descend the stairs together from Chloe’s bedroom. 

(“I hate them,” Beca mutters. She stirs her coffee aggressively.

“You don’t,” Chloe assures, pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

The affection Beca feels for Chloe drowns out Stacie’s knowing giggle from somewhere behind her, so she supposes Chloe’s a little right.)

The thing is, between them, it’s just kissing.

For now.

So when Stacie catcalls them, Chloe ignores it like a champ because nobody else needs to know the going-ons of their relationship. But Beca blushes because she hates that there are expectations at all.

But when Chloe pulls her close, hands firmly on her hips, and Beca settles in the cradle of Chloe’s thighs, Beca can think of nothing better.

Kissing perhaps is a misnomer – it’s more that they’re making out whenever they get the chance. In every room, under every tree, and amongst every empty library stack.

So, yes–

It’s just kissing.

* * *

Beca’s lips can almost be considered _playful_ , Chloe thinks. She loves the way Beca seems unable to resist a smile whenever she pushes her lips eagerly against Chloe’s. Like she’s wanted this for as long as Chloe has.

Her mind wanders, usually – 

How much more does Beca _want_?

* * *

Chloe has wanted more for a while now, but she’s never going to push Beca beyond what she’s comfortable with.

And what Chloe wants–

She’s not asking for _everything_ , at the risk of sounding like a teenage boy, but... well, more. More than just a stolen moment here and there. More than just the playful pull of her lip between Beca’s blunt teeth. More than the way Beca’s eyes glitter at her in the darkness of her room.

Not that kissing Beca isn't exhilarating and life-changing each time they do it.

Kissing Beca Mitchell breath-stealing in ways that Chloe isn’t sure she can even find words to put to it. 

Oddly, Chloe kind of wants to congratulate Jesse…?

For _something_ at least, because he and Beca dated for a while.

The more rational part of her brain tells her that Jesse had nothing to do with any of this and obviously Beca is just supremely gifted in everything she does. Beca is a phenomenal kisser.

Chloe retracts that – she’s not sure she can handle crediting Jesse with anything, really. She can credit him with being a little stupid for letting Beca go so easily in the middle of her sophomore year.

* * *

Okay, so it’s a little more than kissing. At least, now it is.

Their movie forgotten – just how Beca likes it – they find themselves sprawled on Chloe’s bed, comfortably wrapped up in each other’s arms. Beca’s body inches closer and closer with each passing moment until they find themselves with no more space between them.

Chloe thinks that the press of Beca’s breast – warm, soft, punctuated by a stiff nipple – beneath her palm, skin to skin, is incomparable.

Beca writhes above her, slowly grinding her hips down against Chloe’s thigh.

“Is this okay?” Chloe asks, keeping her voice as steady as possible.

Except, she stumbles over her own words, barely able to do more than stutter because Beca’s hand glides boldly up the plane of her stomach and cups Chloe’s breast with the sureness of somebody who has done this before - or at least somebody who knows exactly she wants.

“Is _this_ okay?” Beca asks, nosing her way up and down Chloe’s neck. Her breath is feather-light against Chloe’s skin.

And Chloe _swears_ she can feel the barest hint of a smile.

“Beca,” Chloe breathes out. “ _Yes_.” 

Beca kisses her way back up to Chloe’s mouth.

* * *

Chloe isn’t shy about any of this – she’s pretty confident in fact – so she freely embraces the fact that being able to be with Beca; being able to experience her kisses and her light touches over the surface of her t-shirt – all of that means she occasionally locks herself in her room or in the bathroom in order to touch herself.

* * *

It’s not a dirty secret at all.

Maybe a little _dirty_ , Chloe thinks faintly. Her fingers rub over her clit a little faster. Her hand shoots out beneath the spray of the shower to plant itself on the tile right across from her. 

She bites her lip _hard_ , briefly concerned about drawing blood, but all of that fades as her orgasm rushes through her body, something akin to warmth and numbness all at once. 

Beca’s name falls from her lips like a prayer; falls from between her upper lip and swollen bottom lip like benediction.

Water drips from her eyelashes and nose as she hunches over, exhaling in relief and satisfaction, all mingled with the strangest sense of guilt.

* * *

“I touch myself and think of you,” Chloe admits to Beca, kind of out of the blue one morning while they sit on the quad, eating bagels and drinking coffee. Beca had been surprisingly absent from the Bellas house that morning and had showed up holding breakfast and wearing a shy smile.

Chloe wonders how much more she can fall in love with Beca Mitchell.

Now – she had been nervous at the thought of bringing it up (the very real, very visceral act of getting herself off at the thought of her girlfriend), but she had been even more anxious about keeping it to herself.

So it kind of just...comes out like that, over bagels on a surprisingly warm fall day.

Beca lowers her coffee and stares at Chloe, slack-jawed.

Chloe swallows the sudden nervousness that rises. “Is that okay?” she asks quickly. “I should have asked first. Your permission,” she babbles on. “I – I wasn’t thinking,” Chloe continues steamrolling over Beca’s intake of breath. “I just–”

“No, it’s okay,” Beca murmurs quietly, yet still resolutely enough to still Chloe’s breath. A hint of a pleased smile finally appears behind her bagel when she raises it to her mouth. “I’m flattered.” She takes a bite, then taps her fingers against her chin thoughtfully. “So that’s why you’ve been taking longer showers.”

Chloe can’t help but laugh, even as Beca puts a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her in for a sweeping, loving kiss.

* * *

“I just want you to be comfortable with everything we do,” Chloe promises. She presses her hands on the back of Beca’s neck and bumps their foreheads together. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Gratefulness and love shine back at her through Beca’s eyes. Beca says nothing and instead presses a slow kiss against Chloe’s lips.

With time, they gradually become more intimate. Closer emotionally and physically.

If Chloe’s being honest, she likes being close to Beca physically; likes being intimate physically with Beca.

But she _loves_ their newfound emotional proximity: the quiet conversations and the whispered confessions of insecurities and fears. She wants to be able to soothe Beca’s doubts and uncertainties, just as Beca helps keep her grounded and stable.

 _Balance_ , Chloe thinks. Everything feels _balanced_.

* * *

It is the evening just before they’re due to leave Atlanta to return home for their respective Christmas breaks. The house is quiet and empty, save for CR and Amy who are due to leave the next day as well.

Chloe lounges on her bed, flicking through her Netflix queue. She’s comfortable in her favorite worn out shorts and one of Beca’s t-shirts. 

She is waiting for Beca who is on the phone with her father, confirming Christmas plans. It sends joy through Chloe at the thought of Beca slowly making amends with her father, particularly as Chloe has seen the way Beca’s mood has improved with time and healing.

Finally, Beca slowly opens her bedroom door and peers around the edge, eyes searching. She brightens upon seeing Chloe and all but bounds towards the bed like an excited puppy (Chloe will never tell her that for fear of sending Beca blushing and running for the hills) after she closes and locks the door.

“Good call?” Chloe comments. She shifts a little, but refuses to move as Beca grumbles and tries to push her over so she can sprawl out on Chloe’s bed. 

Beca settles her head on Chloe’s shoulder and tucks herself neatly into Chloe’s side. She rubs her toe playfully up Chloe’s thigh for a few moments, waiting to see if Chloe will crack under pressure. “Yeah,” Beca finally says. “He’s going to pick me up tomorrow and we’re going to the airport together.”

“I’m so jealous you’re going away for Christmas break,” Chloe complains.

“I’m not going to turn down a free trip.” 

“Yeah, you sound really disappointed about going to Mexico City.”

Beca shoves a finger into her side. “You’re just jealous, Beale.”

“That’s what I said,” Chloe parrots back. She nudges Beca with her shoulder. “I’m going to miss you.” 

Beca softens and stills beside her. Her head tilts and suddenly her lips are against Chloe’s neck. “I’m going to miss you too,” she murmurs. Chloe warms at the affection in Beca’s voice, so open and clear for all the world to see.

(Except it’s their world; it’s their private space and Chloe is so honoured to have cultivated this space with Beca.)

“How much?” Chloe asks, wondering how far she can push. She loves Beca’s squirmy discomfort whenever she has to show emotion. It’s cute and Chloe always knows when she needs to stop. But it’s refreshing to see Beca grapple with the intensity of her own emotions, especially when Chloe knows exactly how it feels.

(It rumbles inside her chest with no chance of escape sometimes. Other times her love tumbles out, free and uninhibited. Two extremes.)

“Like, a lot,” Beca mumbles. 

“I wish I could give you a little gift to remind you of me,” Chloe says, pouting at the thought. “I didn’t think of that. Your Christmas present is coming only after the break.”

While Chloe mulls over the logistics of shoddy delivery services, Beca’s hand comes up to curl around her hip. She tilts her head up and back until she’s staring at the side of Chloe’s head until Chloe becomes aware of Beca’s gaze.

“You could…” Beca trails off, struggling to find the words.

Chloe waits, patient as ever.

“I don’t want to watch a movie,” Beca says after a moment. The shift in subject is so distinct, but Chloe realizes something else: Her tone is peculiar and sends Chloe’s senses into Full Alert. “I…” she trails off, uncertainly.

Chloe props herself up on her elbow so she can see Beca’s face more clearly. She reaches out to brush a strand of hair away from Beca’s forehead. “What do you want to do?” Chloe repeats, changing the tone of her voice slightly.

It works because Beca’s throat moves with the heaviness of her swallow and Chloe suddenly realizes exactly what Beca wants.

“I could give you...a gift now,” Chloe suggests slowly, eyes tracking across Beca’s face for any sign of discomfort.

Beca nods, swallowing heavily. “I...I’d like that.”

“What do you want to do?” Chloe asks, keeping her voice low and calm even as her heart threatens to beat out of her chest.

“I…” Beca clears her throat again, looking every bit embarrassed and curious. It’s an appealing combination because the flush on Beca’s cheeks compliments the cute red shirt she’s wearing, along with the way she continues to wet her lower lip with her tongue. “I was thinking, maybe, about what you said. About how you.” Her hand lifts from Chloe’s hip to gesture vaguely. “You know.”

Chloe loves Beca a lot, but she can barely suss out what Beca’s asking for.

“Bec,” she says softly. “It’s okay.”

“I was thinking,” Beca says slowly, eyes finally flicking upwards to meet Chloe’s eyes. “About how you said you…” she pauses to consider her words. “...Touch yourself and, um, think of me.”

 _Oh_ , Chloe thinks. 

“Oh,” Chloe says, heat rising in her chest. That brief conversation was over a month ago. She’s surprised Beca remembers, but then again–

Beca immediately seems to sink back into the bed, looking every bit embarrassed and ashamed. “I was just thinking about it,” she rambles. “We don’t have to do anything, I was just curious and I wanted to know.”

Chloe bites the inside of her cheek for a moment. “What did you want to know?” she asks finally. Quietly.

“...What you look like, doing that.” Beca pauses in her thought. "It's all I've been able to think about."

An explosion of emotion occurs then, starting somewhere low in Chloe’s belly. It spreads through her body quickly and suddenly.

As far as Chloe is aware of her own innate, physical attraction to Beca, she has always been wary in ensuring Beca’s own comfort on the matter. It does very specific things to her own body _now_ , knowing that Beca is equally attracted to her and equally curious - if not _more_ \- about their sexual chemistry.

If Chloe had the capacity to feel embarrassed about it, she’d be conscious about the sudden heat between her legs or the way her thighs instinctively clamp together to alleviate some of the tension.

But she’s not embarrassed about her body, especially not in front of her beautiful, shy girlfriend.

Her beautiful, shy girlfriend who just admitted she wanted to see what Chloe looks like getting herself off.

“I can do that,” Chloe says, leaning down to press a long, slow kiss against Beca’s parted lips. Beca’s hand comes up to her shoulder to hold her close. It’s a little awkward of an angle, but Chloe loves the sensation of Beca’s soft lips moving against her own in such a familiar way. “For you, I can do that,” Chloe murmurs, once she pulls back. She lifts her hand to rub her thumb over Beca’s lower lip. “If it’s what you want.”

There is no hesitation in Beca’s nod.

* * *

Chloe takes off her shorts. They float somewhere across the room, landing with a dull thump.

Or maybe it’s the sound of both their hearts beating loudly in their ears.

Beca’s eyes are dark and intense.

Chloe knows she’s not going to last long.

* * *

Chloe isn’t sure what she expects, but it’s not how boldly Beca kisses up her neck.

Beca’s lips practically glide up Chloe’s neck in gentle, wet kisses. Chloe’s eyes flutter open and shut again at the sensation of Beca’s lips on her jaw and Beca’s palm warm against her abdomen. Heat spreads from that point and Chloe’s fingers slip down past her clit of their own accord and she bucks her hips up instinctively.

Chloe inhales sharply.

Beca’s kisses become devastatingly slow and purposeful. “Does it feel good?” she asks, voice soft and thick. A little muffled against Chloe’s skin. “What does it feel like?” she asks again, her voice ending a little bit on a whimper.

Chloe can only whimper once before she nods, not trusting herself to speak. Beca’s hand slides up from her stomach, scorching a hot path overtop Chloe’s shirt. Her hand grazes her breasts, though she surprisingly doesn’t linger. Instead, Beca’s hand comes up to cup her jaw and tilt her head for a desperate kiss. 

* * *

Chloe’s not sure how she can even begin to describe what it feels like to Beca.

 _Hot,_ she thinks, as Beca’s lips push against her own.

 _Wet_ , she thinks, at the first swipe of Beca’s tongue.

 _Swollen_ , she thinks, as something inside Chloe’s chest blooms and her fingers lose themselves between the sticky mess between her legs.

_It feels like you._

* * *

There is something about the way Beca initiates kisses - about the way she starts tentative and soft, then slowly finds a way to slip her tongue purposefully out to first glide against Chloe’s lips, then too slowly push into her mouth.

Now, however, Beca’s lips push against hers with determination, already wet from her own tongue, Chloe thinks. Chloe moans into the kiss, tilting her head as languidly as she dares. She tries to slow her fingers - almost considers removing them from between her legs so she can hold Beca close.

(The thought of her wet fingers against Beca’s skin makes her tremble and ache in new ways.)

As if reading her mind, Beca’s fingers curl around the back of her head to hold her closer in their embrace. As if to say _don’t stop_.

Beca’s tongue curls eagerly against the back of her teeth.

 _As if to say please_.

Chloe has to pull away then, breathless and gasping. She’s sure the flush has spread up her cheeks and beyond. She has to look away, so she looks down her own body, watching the slow flex of her forearm and the movements of her wrist. Groaning, her head thumps back against the pillow and her eyes fall shut. Beca presses her forehead against Chloe’s cheek in a show of affection.

Beca’s hand slips from her cheek, resting somewhere around her neck and collarbone. Chloe bites her lip and uses her left hand to reach up so she can push Beca’s hand under her shirt.

“You can–” Her voice sounds strange to her, a little thicker and a little lower somehow. She clears her throat, desperately trying not to combust so soon. “You can touch me,” she manages to say after a moment. “Please,” she adds.

Beca’s forehead brushes against Chloe’s damp cheek as she nods. Her head lifts so she can watch Chloe’s progress while also watching the slow movement of her hand under Chloe’s shirt. Beca’s fingers are light and exploratory, almost delicate in the way she reverently traces paths and lines across Chloe’s skin, both real and imagined.

“ _Chloe_ ,” Beca murmurs. It’s so slight and so quiet that Chloe’s not even sure that Beca realizes she’s said it. Before she can dwell, Beca’s hand comes up to tweak her stiff nipple and Chloe’s gone again. 

Still, Chloe wants to slow it down – she’s always waiting for Beca in some form or another, whether if it’s waiting for Beca to catch up or waiting for Beca to realize she has somehow left Chloe in the dust once more. So she strokes her thumb over Beca's neck with her free hand in a comforting way. She twists as best as she can so they can kiss. Chloe is slow and tender in her kisses. She loves the way Beca reacts to those - the barest hint of hesitation before she’s sinking comfortably into Chloe’s embrace. Like she’s allowing Chloe into her space fully. 

This is so familiar.

Chloe pushes her fingers through her wet folds.

 _This_ is unfamiliar.

"Are you–“ Beca asks stiltedly. Chloe can feel the heat emanating from Beca’s body and hopes - desperately so - that it’s due to all of this.

“Yeah,” Chloe murmurs. “Yeah, it’s right–“ She hisses, pushing her fingers against herself with just the right amount of force. “ _There,_ ” she moans out. “Fuck,” she murmurs, pulling her other hand away from Beca so she can rub circles on her stiff, neglected clit.

Beca whines a little, breath coming out hot against Chloe’s throat. Chloe can feel every last sensation in that moment. The hot flash of heat, the stiffening of Beca’s body. The flutter of her eyelashes, even, and a telltale shift of Beca’s body against her side. The way Beca’s leg hooks against hers to draw her open a bit more. “Like that,” Beca murmurs, so faintly that once again Chloe isn’t sure that Beca is aware of her own voice.

The stiffness of Beca’s nipple presses against Chloe’s arm and spurs her on further, sending her hurtling over the edge with finality. The most peculiar growling noise leaves her throat, followed by a series of gasps. “Beca,” she whimpers, finally finding sense to speak her girlfriend’s name aloud. “Bec, _God_ –”

* * *

Beca can hardly believe her luck; can hardly believe Chloe Beale chooses _her_ day after day.

(And conversely, choosing Chloe Beale was one of the easiest decisions Beca has ever made; like opening a window to a gust of fresh air after years of dust and nothingness.)

When Chloe falls apart beside her, it’s all Beca can do to wait just one second to experience this moment with her girlfriend before she’s coming apart soon after.

* * *

Beca takes her hand, still glistening and wet at the fingertips.

She then pushes it under her own shirt, shuddering at the sensation of Chloe’s wet fingers gliding up her skin, just how Chloe had imagined it before.

Chloe finds the familiar stiffness of Beca’s nipple and gently pinches at it while they kiss. Beca shudders into her body, pushing as close as she dares. Her leg drapes loosely across Chloe’s thigh and Chloe feels impossible warmth from between Beca’s legs. A little dampness through the thin material of Beca’s shorts. Chloe barely resists from pushing her thigh up into Beca so they’re connected solidly.

God, Beca’s trying to _kill_ her, Chloe’s pretty sure of it at this point. Her girlfriend never fails to surprise her.

“Thank you,” Beca murmurs, voice thick and heavy again. Thick and heavy, still.

 _I love you_ , Chloe thinks.

And, for now, this is all enough.


End file.
